


How many Doctors can you fit in one bed?

by Consulardomino (orphan_account)



Series: Doctor Who Hookups [3]
Category: Doctor Who
Genre: F/F, F/M, Filming Porn, M/M, porno
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-21
Updated: 2016-07-21
Packaged: 2018-07-25 19:18:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7544743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Consulardomino
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clara and the Doctor are surprised to find that their fame precedes them. The actual smut doesn't start until chapter 2.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Doctor!" Rose cried out. All around her, explosions rocked the throughout the ship. Jack held her close as the two looked on across the wide open expanse from the thin walkway they were on to the equally thin walkway on which stood the Doctor. There were digital clocks all along the walls. They counted up in big red digits. Counted quickly. Rose braced herself against Jack as the ship shook violently. For all the danger, she was in this split second safe and unharmed, thankfully. Of course, Rose and Jack weren't surrounded by Cybermen. The Doctor wasn't so lucky.

The fit man in the leather jacket and hair buzzed close turned to look at them with those eyes that never seemed to lose their shell-shock. Rose knew the Doctor had been through a war recently (recently for him, who's to say how long that would be in a human's reckoning). This was his ninth incarnation, though he had kept that information from Rose. He had PTSD, she knew, wether or not he was willing to admit it himself. He kept his Sonic Screwdriver aimed at one of the approaching Cybermen but fixed his gaze past Rose, locking eyes with Jack who stood slightly behind the shorter blonde woman, holding her in his arms. 

"Get her out of here," said the Doctor, his gaze dropping to the arm band Jack wore. 

"We're not leaving you!" protested Rose.

"I--I'm sorry," said Jack. His hand moved to the buttons around his wrist, never releasing his hold on Rose. A few beeps later and the two of them were phasing out of the Cybership into a different place and a different time. 

"No!" Rose cried as she disappeared.

Just then another large explosion rocked the entire ship. The Doctor was thrown from his place, falling into the gap. The Cybermen, whose boots were magnetized, did not follow. And then the video cut out.

*

"That makes no sense," said the Doctor with a shake of his head. Now in his twelfth incarnation, he had just watched footage of himself, Rose Tyler, and a young Jack Harkness aboard a Cybership as war raged all around them. From his vantage here near the center console aboard the TARDIS, he could go anywhere and see almost anything. Yet his greatest mysteries always seemed to revolve around himself. The Doctor shook his head again. "That makes no sense at all."

"What doesn't?" Asked Clara. She did that thing where her lips made an "oh" as her eyebrows raised, the perfect expression for eliciting a response from students and Timelords alike. The schoolteacher turned Companion wore a black and gold polka-dot dress as she ate curry from a take-out box. She sat on the edge of the central console.

"I never encountered Cybermen when I looked like that. At least, not with Rose. Certainly not with Rose and Jack. Daleks, yes. But not Cybermen," said the Doctor. He tapped some buttons and the video quickly rewound. The camera panned outside the ship to show the other craft involved in the battle. "Cybermen and Sontarans. I never interceded in a war between those two. I'm not even sure there was a war between those two. I mean, they're both warlike, I'm sure they fought at some time, but I don't remember it. I don't remember any of this."

"You're getting old," teased Clara.

"Yes," admitted the Doctor. "But it still doesn't make any sense."

"Can't we go there?" Asked Clara.

"Go there?"

"Not to the battle itself," explained Clara. "But to before. Or after? To see if maybe there are other records or something?"

"Brilliant," said the Doctor. He started punching coordinates into the TARDIS. Soon that old familiar whirl of dematerialization sounded all around them. "I've set the TARDIS to take us back to some time before the battle began. Since I never seem to show up before things go south, I can assume I won't risk running into my former self if I go back before the battle even started."

"How do you know?" asked Clara. 

"Hmm?"

"You said you didn't remember the battle," said Clara. "How do you know when the battle started?"

"Didn't you notice those clocks? The Cybermen where counting up, not down. Since they weren't waiting for something, they must have been counting the time elapsed. The question is, time elapsed from what?" 

"The start of the battle," guessed Clara.

"Precisely."

The whirl returned. This sound was only slightly different than the one they had just heard. This was the sound of the TARDIS materializing. They had arrived.

Clara opened the door with the intention of just taking a quick peak and reporting back to the Doctor. She had been on the TARDIS long enough to trust in her relative safety no matter what was on the other side of that door. She knew the TARDIS could keep her safe from the void of space and even most energy weapons. And what the TARDIS couldn't protect her from, surely the Doctor could. 

She slammed the door shut with an audible gasp. She turned her back and slumped against the door, eyes wide. For a moment her eyes met the Doctor's but Clara found she had to quickly avert her gaze. 

"Ah...um..oh..." mouthed Clara.

"Well?" prompted the Doctor. "What is it? Have trapped wind?"

"Doctor!" scowled Clara.

"What?" said the Doctor, clueless or otherwise not caring about his social faux pas. "And what's out there?"

"I did NOT want to see that," said Clara.

"See what? You're not making any sense," scolded the Doctor.

"You!" Exclaimed Clara.

"Well of course it's me," chided the Doctor. "That's what we're here for, isn't it?"

The Doctor marched up to the door and opened it the side that Clara wasn't leaning against. Then it was his own turn to gasp.

"I'm sure I would remember that," he mumbled.

Clara stood up. She made nervous eye contact with the Doctor. Both of their faces were a bit red. Then, as one, they took another peak out the door.

"Are those," Clara started. "Are those cameras? And who are al those other people?"

"I think they are a film crew," said the Doctor. He squinted. "Hang on a sec, this is...oh my."

Clara, who had come to the same conclusion just a moment later, again gasped. Then, she giggled. "Did you know they made Doctor porn?"

"Obviously I didn't. If I did, I wouldn't have brought you here," said the Doctor. 

"What? Am I not good enough to be in porn?" mocked Clara as she twirled to show off her figure. 

The Doctor stammered a moment, then said, "Oh how would I know?"

"Quiet on set!" came a loud voice from beyond the open door.

"Hey you two!" barked a PA as he rushed towards them. He clunked and jingled the whole way with all the show and camera equipment he had hanging off this belt or that. "You're in the shot, move over he--wow! Good Twelve look! Those make-up ladies really are the best!"

The PA looked over at Clara, "You don't quite look right, though."

"That's what I always tell her," said the Doctor. 

"Come on," said the PA, grabbing them both by the wrists and pulling them out of the TARDIS. "Great set designer too, that really did look bigger on the inside."  
Once they had moved a bit, the PA let go of the Doctor. He said, "Ok, you stay here and wait for your queue. Remember it's 'Four Doctors,' okay?"

The PA kept leading Clara away. The Doctor made no move to follow.

"Doctor!" Clara stage-whispered. "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to star in my own porno."


	2. Chapter 2

"C'mon, Matt! Get hard! Do you need the fluffer?" bellowed the director over his megaphone.

"Hang on, I've got it," said the actor who looked surprising like the Doctor's Eleventh reincarnation. 

"Maybe I can help," said the real Doctor, tapping his sunglasses to activate their Sonic component. With a little whirling noise, suddenly Matt's dick got hard.

"Peter, stop playing with the props when we're not rolling," came the director. 

"Does he mean me?" the Doctor asked Matt while admiring the naked man's slim but fit footballer physique. 

Matt smiled up at the Doctor. "Already in character, eh? You're really dedicated. I just do this to make money and get paid." 

"Yes, well," murmured the Doctor. "I suppose there are worse ways to live."

"Places!" called the director. "Places!"

Matt shoo'd the Doctor off the set. He said, "Remember, you don't come on until I say 'I've never been with myself before. They'll have to call this The Cumming of the Four Doctors,' okay?"

"Got it," nodded the Doctor as he moved back out of frame. 

"Action!" called the director. The real Doctor watched in silence as a remarkable Amy Pond look-alike entered the stage. A remarkably naked Amy Pond look-alike. He gawked as he watched her start to finger herself and pinch her own nipples.

"Oh Doctor," she said to the man who looked like the Doctor's Eleventh incarnation, the man the director had called Matt. "Quick, do me before my husband gets home."

The real Doctor screwed up his face at this. That was simply preposterous. He would NEVER encourage this kind of infidelity. Rory had been his friend and Companion, too. Of course, it wouldn't be a porno without someone going after his wife's mother. That seemed true across many cultures. Oh! He was married, wasn't he? Yes, sometimes he forgot that. What would River think about him being in a porno? Then again, their timelines sometimes seemed to go opposite one another. Maybe River already knew about the porno? And of course, they did have their special arrangement and all. When all parties were fully in the know and consenting and all....

*

Clara found herself escorted into a cramped dressing room where virtually every surface was covered in either make-up supplies or lingerie. The PA told her someone would be by in a moment to get her ready and then he promptly left her there, alone. 

A moment later, a purple-skinned woman with a bulbous head and four lanky arms waltzed in and started powdering Clara's face. What was even stranger about this purple woman was the modified Renaissance dress she wore. It reminded Clara of Queen Elizabeth. 

"Yes, yes," she said. "Time to get you all pretty for the camera. Wait, why are your clothes still on? Your character doesn't get a costume! None of the women do!"

"You-you're an alien!" Clara exclaimed.

"Well of course!" said the weird purple woman. "What else would I be? Now chop chop, off with your clothes!"

"I'm--supposed to get naked?" Clara asked, still not entirely accepting that all this was really happening. 

"Yes! Now hurry up or we'll have to cast someone else!"

Clara slowly started to disrobe. She pulled her sweater over her head. As she started to unbutton her shirt, the alien spoke again.

"Oh no, those tits are way too small. The real Clara had giant cow utters. We'll need a LOT of makeup."

"Cow utters!?!"

*

The scene had progressed as gangbang pornos often do, more and more naked bodies piling into the shot. The Doctor counted three versions of "himself" now as well as half-decent facsimiles of several former companions. All female, he noted. That disappointed him a little. It seemed overly pedestrian to tailor to just one sexual fantasy. Did these people know their audience must have a variety of tastes? 

Finally, his queue came. The Twelfth Doctor, the real Doctor, made his way into the shot, still fully clothed. 

"Cut!" yelled the director. The alarm sounded and the atmosphere seemingly changed as the mood lighting turned off and the stage lights activated. "You're not supposed to be wearing that! I wanted Twelve to come out in one of those barbarian fur thong things! Come on, people! How hard is that to understand? He's just returned from the--no, not you, Peter. You're marvelous. Marvelous!"

The real Twelfth Doctor smiled at the compliment. He was, after all, truly marvelous. Then, he raised his Sonic Screwdriver and pointed it at the director. 

"I think I see what's going on here," he said. With that familiar whrrr sound, the Screwdriver blinked and flashed. Glancing down at it just briefly, the Doctor said, "All right, the jig is up."

The Director just moaned. Suddenly, something in his forehead started...pressing to get out. A moment later, his forehead opened as an all too familiar optic lens extended. 

"A Dalek Sleeper Agent. I should have known. If any of you here are actually non-genocidal lifeforms, now is the time to run!"

And off in the distance came a voice? "Doctor? Doctor, help!"

The Doctor sighed. "And of course she's got herself captured already."


End file.
